


A Foray into Subjugation

by Zombiebarnes



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dukat is a slimy colonialist asshole, Dukat- character study, I can't write fics, Other, Post!Occupation, infantilisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiebarnes/pseuds/Zombiebarnes
Summary: Gul Dukat considers Bajor





	A Foray into Subjugation

Gul Dukat, Commander of the second order, Prefect of Bajor, Liberator, and Salvation of the Bajoran people, had always considered himself a man well versed in mercy. He was tender, like a father looking over his young children. The Cardassian Union had assigned him to Bajor as the biblical gate to the sheep. Dukat was the type of man who would stare into the eyes of the wolf without question. He was wise to the cruelties of the galaxy, the way in which a cold and unfeeling expanse would ravage this gentle civilisation. Without his leadership, Bajor would surely be subject to the whims of those who wished to take advantage of their good natures.

The first time he set foot on Bajoran soil, Dukat had felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. Surveying the landscape from the top of the highest point of the Dahkur hills, he had taken stock of the beauty that surrounded him, the way the deep cerulean faded into lush greens and rich soil. In spite of his demotion, he was sure he could forge Bajor into something incredible. It was here, in the heart of this savage land, that he resolved to tame the land, and the people she had grown with a gentle hand and a discerning eye.

As a Cardassian Legate, he had been responsible for destruction, as a Bajoran Prefect, he would build. His first acts as Prefect had been ones of mercy, to bring medical care and aid to Bajor, to relieve those working in internment camps from the iron grip of his worst subordinates.

No one could argue that the Bajoran people hadn’t been loved. In return, he had hoped they would grow to love him, to consider all the things he had done for their salvation. He had quickly realised, however, that he was mistaken. His naiveté was repaid in kind when the terrorists had first announced their intentions.  

These wayward children had soon made it well known that they were not grateful for the presence of their new father. With every bomb, every civilian killed, and every member of the Cardassian military sent home in a body bag, Dukat had felt his heart break a little more, his resolve to discipline harden. He had cried for the Bajoran people, bled his own DNA into the rich earth. Was it any wonder he found home in the strange familiarity of this new frontier?

Terok Nor had, at first, appeared to be a welcome reprieve from the heartache he found on Bajor. It had been ideally suited to retreating from the conflict. The metal hull seemed to be all that was containing his disappointment, and often, all that stood between him and the fury of those he had so valiantly tried to protect.

If only they had known everything he had sacrificed to oversee their liberation, perhaps events might have transpired differently, he thought to himself. His slender fingers traced the seams in the walls, bumping over the rivets, catching on all the secret imperfections and creases he found hidden in the stations walls. Oh, the secrets they held, this Commander Sisko could only imagine. His eyes met those of his gelatinous companion. Regardless of his lack of humanity, even Odo couldn’t hide the contempt Dukat saw etched across his carefully curated features.

The doors parted for him, and he found himself back on the bridge. He paused, the whispers of Bajorans and Cardassians alike passing in front of his eyes. Beyond the window, the object of his affection hung, suspended amongst the stars and the inky black backdrop that accentuated her curves. He let out a barely audible breath as the ghosts were made flesh in obnoxious Starfleet uniforms. Here, months later, gazing down at a newly “liberated” Bajor, Gul Dukat finally felt the weight of his failure settle on his shoulders.

Dukat couldn’t leave Terok Nor in good conscience without facing the man who would carry news of his shame around the sector. In front of him sat the very image of all the forces in the Universe that had conspired against him. He gazed down upon Benjamin Sisko, somehow both fresh faced and hardened, reticent to speak to the Federation’s newest favourite scapegoat. Sisko was the antithesis of his goals, of all the things he had achieved in his long and decorated service to the Cardassian people, and yet, he found their aims, and even their methods, were not so dissimilar. 

The presence of several young Bajoran officers had not gone unnoticed. Perhaps the Federation were unaware the guidance they would require, of the strength of character, and the level of domestication required to keep Bajorans in order. In his time here, Dukat had learned well how to preside over the pigheaded. He merely hoped Sisko's command would be marked by the same care and respect with which he had treated these people. 

“Perhaps we could have an exchange of information, pool our resources,” Dukat suggested. Mutual cooperation would work well in their favour. He had far more knowledge on how to keep Bajor adequately disciplined than the Federation could ever hope to collect. The suggestion lay hidden behind his carefully calculated words:  _“You don't know how to take care of them, not like I do.”_

Were he a gambling man, Dukat might have placed a bet on the likelihood of Commander Sisko seeking his attentions. He caught the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. It remained to be seen who’s side the emissary was on.   



End file.
